Hardfaced Queens and Muted Angels
by Vain x Life Poetess
Summary: Sequel to Pain to no End: Dead Man's Tale. After Katherine of Aragon dies giving birth to her youngest daughter, Anne decides to look after while Thomas More remains on the run, heartbroken and determined as his former stepdaughter, to have his vengeance.
1. Creating a Home

_**"God knows what is hiding  
**_ **in those weeks and drunken hearts**  
 **guess he kissed the ghosts that made them hard**  
 **those queens of misadventures**  
 **god knows what is hiding**  
 **in those weak and sunken lies**  
 **fiery thrones and muted angels**  
 **giving love but getting nothing back."**  
 **~People by Birdy**

 **"Don't trust anybody, life is safer that way." ~Game of Thrones**

Annie was tired of people ignoring her. She wasn't stupid. She knew what she was. Her mother had abandoned her because she couldn't live with the knowledge of what she'd done.

Annie put her book down. Her aunt wouldn't want her to be this angry. She always told her that there was light at the end of the tunnel but she didn't think there was. Her brother Anthony still saw her as the enemy and at every opportunity he got he teased her and threw her down the stairs. One time it got so bad that she thought she was never going to walk again but the King sent her aunt his physician and he told her that she was fine but she would need rest and good tonics to get better.

Aunt Anne wasn't satisfied with that. She went to her brother's room and dragged him. "Ah! Stop it! Stop it! It wasn't me! She did it on purpose, she always does these things!" And took Lady Bryan's whip and began whipping him. It was a light whip compared to the first he had received when he told her the truth, but it was enough to make him angry again. "Get out of here!" He told her as she got to his room. He could hear her footsteps from miles away. She always wore those scandalous shoes, made just for her, like her stupid Aunt.

"I said get out!"

"I am sorry that Aunt Anne hit you. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

"Yeah right. Everything about you is a lie. My mother should have stabbed you in the heart when you were born but your father took you from her arms before she could. She only wanted you to be born after he thwarted her attempts to kill you, so she could kill you and show your corpse to your daddy."

"How can you talk so ill of me Tony?"

"Don't call me that! Only my mom and my real sister ever called me that. You are not my sister!"

"I am your sister."

"You are a thing created in mother's belly so she could commit suicide. The joke is on you bastard because my mother lives in me and I will make sure your life is a true living hell."

She wanted to say something else but when she attempted to put her hand on his shoulder he pushed her and told her to go away.

Annie went back to her room and locked herself in. She read from her aunt's favorite book, written by a Protestant woman in Germany. She had written on it many times, including on the part that spoke about God and obedience towards your elders. Annie wished that Anthony would understand that her aunt's objective was not to destroy but to build.

She hopped into her bed and gave a big sigh. Siblings were weird, she decided. Or maybe it was just in her particular case. Every time she tried getting closer to them they dismissed her.

* * *

Anne knocked on her niece's door. She came in and saw her niece sleeping next to her favorite doll. The former Queen of England rolled her eyes, it was so obvious she wasn't sleeping.

Anne sat next to her and rubbed her shoulder. "Annie, Annie." She raised her tone. Annie opened her eyes and looked at her aunt. "How did you know I wasn't sleeping?" She asked her.

"Your father used to play the same game when we were little. He called it, I am too smart for Anne."

"Sorry."

"It's ok, it brings back good memories of George. I heard you visited your brother, is that why you didn't come downstairs to have dinner with the rest of us?" She nodded.

"He said some pretty mean things about my dad. I didn't want to believe him but sometimes I think he is right."

"How so?"

"I was unwanted. My mother didn't want to have me like you wanted to have Bess and all your other kids prior to their miscarriages or Lady-I mean Queen Katherine or Queen Jane when they had their children. I was just a spur of seed."

"Anne. You were not a spur of seed. Your mother …" God help me. "had many problems but she did love your father."

"Why did she want to kill me then? If she loved me so much, she would not have done what she did and then yelled at my brother to finish what she started. He didn't say that." She added quickly once her aunt frowned and furrowed her brow and opened her mouth, about to ask the question. "I figured that on my own."

Anne smiled sadly at her. Her niece was a smart girl, having inherited the Boleyn brains from her father and it was times like these that she briefly changed her mind of being reminded of George to instead being reminded of herself when she was Annie's age.

She decided it was best to tell her the whole truth, otherwise it would eat her inside like it did her poor mother.

* * *

"So my mother blamed my father for what my grandfather and uncle did?" Her aunt nodded. "But he wasn't there though so she had no reason to blame him. I mean, if he had then I can understand her anger but at least he tried to make things better to her by appealing to granddad and even his wife, to annul his marriage and marry her and make me legitimate. That is more than any man has ever done for his kid."

Anne was impressed, but warned her to keep her voice down because the last sentence was enough to get her in trouble these days with the way the country was heading thanks to Henry's latest policies.

"I am not afraid of dying, I am just afraid of getting you and Bessie in trouble aunt."

"You should be afraid for yourself Anine. Bess and I can take care of ourselves but you can't. You need to be careful in everything you say because to many you are still a bastard."

"But I am not. You said it yourself, my daddy and my granddad More after he killed him, worked to legitimize me."

"I am not talking about the people here sweet plum. Other countries still see Bess' mother's to your former uncle as legitimate and valid, and if they are ever successful in turning the clock back in England then everything your granddad More did will be overturned, including you being a true Boleyn."

Annie was scared to hear that. That would mean that Tony could get back all his lands, and not only that, but he could make true all of his threats to make her life a living hell. She jumped to her aunt's arms and hugged her. "You won't make that happen, right?"

"No, I promise I won't but you must be careful as well Annie, this is not the country you were born into when I was Queen. Everything you do will be watched and will be reported back to Cromwell and then to the King. You must be extra careful about what you say from now on."

Annie promised her she would and after she left her niece's bedroom she went to check on her new charge, the little Princess and Bess' little sister, Katherine Isabella Tudor.

Little Bella as she was known was sleeping next to Bess. Bess didn't want to be far from her little sister and begged her mother to join their rooms. Anne was against it at first because she was afraid that her daughter would drop her but seeing how devoted she was to her little sister, she complied. And as it turned out, Bess was a better guardian to her than any other governess could have hoped to be. Certainly better than the lackluster servants she had on Hudson who were only good to talk ill about her mother and how 'ugly' the baby looked.

 _If you were ever worried Katherine that your daughter was going to be neglected because nobody is going to harm her as long as I am alive._ She and her mother had been enemies, but Anne couldn't help but feel a tug at her heart when she the small thing crawling on all fours on the floor, dirty, having soiled herself and crying for her dead mother.

None of the maids were careful to clean her, bathe her, or sing to her the way that her mother surely would have if she had survived the ordeal. But she wasn't a boy and what was more, her mother had failed twice in giving Henry what she promised while she had given Thomas (now considered a heretic and a runaway from the law) a son. It was the ultimate humiliation for him. Henry being Henry, took his anger at the child. She was a Princess but lived worse than a commoner. At least that is how Anne saw it.

She took the poor child and ignored Henry's threats to return her to her household.

 _"_ _You should be ashamed Henry. She is your daughter and she is living like she was some pauper."_

 _"_ _She deserves it after her mother opened her legs for that man! I did everything to her, gave her power, made her my queen, my Regent and she gave him a son over me!"_

 _"_ _That is not her fault and you know it." Anne told him, glaring strongly at him. "She tried Henry, God knows we all tried to give you a son and the one who succeeded is dead for it. You could at least show her some gratitude."_

 _"_ _Why are you even helping that bitch's daughter Anne? You hated her."_

 _"_ _I did. I still do. I think she was heartless to live her true husband-"_

 _"_ _Don't you dare." But Anne continued._

 _"_ _-like that for you but her child is innocent just as I would have been if you had gone ahead and cut me off if Thomas hadn't been there to plead my case."_

 _"_ _You are never going to let that go." Henry sighed, chuckling. Anne knew what was going through his mind and he was right. She was never going to let that go. "Fine, take the damned child. I don't want to see her ever again."_

Anne knew Henry was joking, but just in case she took her, cleaned her that day despite the maids refusing to follow her orders because they were afraid they would get a reprimand from Cromwell, Seymour or worse, her former husband but they complied in the end. Anne bought her all kinds of clothes and just as with her daughter, she ordered everyone to call her Princess.

 _"_ _Remember, it doesn't matter who her mother was, she was born in wedlock unlike the Lady Mary, and like my daughter she is to be called Your Highness. At the very least I want to hear my royal lady."_ Everyone agreed, the new maids soon learned that Anne's temper was worse than the King's and it was better to listen to her than to His Majesty.

Anne took her in her arms and put her back in her crib. Bess opened her eyes and said she wanted to sleep with her. "She likes it when we are with her mother. I don't think she likes being alone."

"I know but you have to be careful. She might be strong like your father but she is still a baby."

"Alright mother."

Anne could tell something was bugging Elizabeth. "What is it?"

"They said that father is going to remarry. Is it true?"

"Yes."

"But it is so soon. Shouldn't he wait at least a year of mourning?"

"He should but your father's way of doing things are a mystery." Even to himself, Anne thought.

* * *

Mary lighted a candle just for appearances for her mother. Truth to be told she wasn't sad as she thought she would for her mother's death. She had it coming after she decided to leave everything behind for that man. That hypocrite heretic! And worse was that she was remarried to her father and didn't even try to put her back into the line of succession. Oh she was there (unofficially) but as Lady Mary. As a bastard! And her daughter –whom she suspected was likely that heretic's instead of her father's- had usurped Mary's rightful place by being called Princess.

She smirked. _Fame favors the bold._ She extinguished the candle as soon as she heard the approach of the Emperor. The Empress had been so good to her when she came. She thought the two would be good friends, but it soon became evident that she was jealous and every time she talked to Mary, she spoke of how good her mother was, beautiful and everything she was not, implying Mary would never live up to her.

No matter. Mary was twice the woman her mother was and to be more brutally honest with herself, her life had true purpose because unlike her mother who let her heart guide her, Mary was guided solely by her duty.

"Your Imperial Majesty."

The Emperor waved a hand. "Please Mary, it's alright. We are cousins here, you don't have to call me that."

"Charles then. What can I assist you with?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing. My sister Eleanor sent me news from France that the king received a letter from your father asking him to send twelve beautiful ladies to judge for himself if they were worthy of him. Apparently he wants to hold a beauty pageant like they do with the Sultan's harems."

Mary laughed at that, Charles laughed too. He found her laughter infectious. Everything about her was toxic. He couldn't understand why he had decided to marry Isabella over her. Oh that is right the Empire.

Isabella –God forgive him- was beautiful and his equal. When he wasn't in Spain, she ruled and she was his partner in crime in everything and had convinced him in helping his aunt, but she couldn't give him more than one son and she was becoming extremely jealous –of their cousin no less! Something Charles considered a complete nonsense since Mary was their family and he would never betray her.

Although you have thought of it. That was different. Charles said to himself. Mary was beautiful, younger but she was the forbidden fruit and Charles had learned from his grandfather and father's experiences never to devour it. Savor it, have fun with it, but not swallow it whole.

"My father is not likely to choose any of them even if His French Majesty complied."

"Are you sure because my sister tells me he is very serious about it and my French brother, your cousin-in-law" Mary giggled at that term. Charles smile widened at the sound of her laughter. "is really taking your father on his offer as long as he keeps it away from the evil Spanish."

Mary laughed harder and sat closer to him. Charles felt a huge knot in his throat as he was invaded by the scent of her perfume. Jazmin. _God almighty in heaven help me!_

"They should know better." She said. "I never understood why they called you Spanish when you are not Spanish and me when I was born and raised in England. Our own ancestor was English." She said referring to Catherine of Lancaster whom her mother was named after.

"I know. English can be so ignorant."

She acted offended. "I mean most, not all." He quickly rectified.

"Would you like to see something?" She nodded vigorously and he took her hand and led her to his study where he had built new clocks and maps.

 **~o~**

Isabella heard the former Princess of Wales' laughter grace the hallways as she and her husband ran to his study.

"Would you like something for your head my lady?" Isabella shook her head. She rubbed her temples. Every night since that girl came to their shores, she prayed that God might take her from them so she could have her husband back in her arms.

Isabella had never been a jealous woman. She had learned from her mother that a woman was supposed to be a dutiful wife and from the stories she heard of her grandmother, that while being that she could still wield a lot of power and influence. She and Charles were not just husband and wife, they were equals. She ruled Spain even when he was around. The people had warmed to him thanks to her and she had worked very hard to secure his hold on the Spanish throne by giving him Philip, his crown jewel followed by two beautiful princesses.

But that girl had to come and ruin everything. She knew she was protected by the Savoyard Eustace Chapuys. The man loved her, she could tell by the way he looked at her.

 _What is it about these English girls that they take good men away from their husbands_? First Anne Boleyn with her aunt and now this so called English royal. _Damn these English roses._ If she could have a say in all of this, she would burn that entire country down.

"The Virreina of Valencia, Queen Dowager of Aragon and Naples and Duchess of Calabria died this month and instead of mourning for her death and paying respects to her, the King decides to postpone it in favor of his cousin." She forced herself a small smile. "You have to admire the King's generosity for it knows no ends."

Her ladies said nothing. They didn't have to. They all sided with their Queen and mistress. The woman had had a good relationship with the King's former lover and step-grandmother. She had been vital in helping putting down the Comunidades de Castilla and many other rebellions, and after Isabella had taken her place as the de facto ruler of Spain, the former Queen quietly stepped down and let her do her job, helping her in every way she could.

This girl however was not content to be in the background. She wanted it all and their Majesty didn't see it because she was young, twenty two, his cousin and best of all, royalty as him and untouched by man and the latter was enough to appeal to anyone, especially a handsome man as their King and Emperor still was.

One of them was brave enough to speak up, her name was Iliana and she was the daughter of one his lesser Austrian lords and a lesser Castilian noble. "Your Imperial Majesty loves you above all others Madame. No one will ever hold your place in his heart."

"You are too good to me girl as all of you are but the King and Emperor is a man and like Caesar he wants more. Don't give me those sad faces girls, remember that I am still Queen and Empress and in spite of his feelings for our dearest cousin, I am the mother of his son, your future King."

They nodded, feeling inspired by their mistress' words. It was true. Lady Mary or the Princess Mary as she liked to think herself, would never supplant their mistress for their mistress was the mother of their future King and it would be her that the history books would remember, not the English rose.


	2. Taking what you can

**_"_** ** _Would she even care?_**

 ** _I still remember when she looked at me_**

 ** _A frown upon her face_**  
 ** _(Trying to be sincere)_**

 ** _I gathered those little things she said_**

 ** _Kept them close to me_**  
 ** _(Trying to make this real)_**

 ** _This cloud will always hover over me_**  
 ** _(leaving you today_**  
 ** _Because now I say)_**

 ** _Suffocate, suffocate, you suffocate_**  
 ** _It's your lie_**  
 ** _(I'm not a freak)_**  
 ** _suffocate, suffocate you suffocate_**

 ** _I could take every fucking game you play_**

 ** _And blow it up all away_**

 ** _And would you even care?_**

 ** _I could take all those little things you said to me_**

 ** _Never go away_**

 ** _Never disappear_**

 ** _This cloud will always hover over me_**

 ** _Leaving you today…"_**

 ** _~Suffocate by Cold_**

The left side of Anthony's face hurt. His grandfather was on the run and what was worse, his uncle as he guessed he must call that critter, was still in Henry VIII's custody. "Damn that concubine. She knows her damn stuff." The more Tony thought about his sister and how close she and Anne had become, the angrier he became. He thought of the many ways he could trick their bastard sister into coming with him near the lake then dump her there. Nobody would know and nobody would care. But then he remembered what his mother made him promise the day before she killed herself.

 _"Remember Anthony, you are my only family. You and your sister are the only things I have left. You can't let petty differences with your sister get the best of you. Your grandfather was the greatest thinker that ever lived, you carry his blood through me."_ She gripped him harder, nearly digging his nails into his skin. _"They will lie to you and try to convince you to accept that thing but remember, family is family."_ She emphasized.

And he did. Every day when he prayed, when he went to sleep. He asked God to increase his hatred for Anne and her family and to eliminate his dependency on them. To give him the tools he needed to forge his own path, away from them.

 _When Mary Tudor becomes Queen, I will be next to her. Advising her, helping her distinguish the fake from the truthful. He could only hope that became true._ He heard news through Anne's noisy maids that she was getting close to the Emperor. It was quite scandalous. Rumor also had it that the Empress was jealous. She had been jealous the moment she stepped off the boat and into her husband's court. But if Anthony were to be true to himself, he would admit that he felt a pang of jealousy himself –only not towards Mary but towards the Emperor himself.

Since he was a kid and Mary had been a little kid herself, and went to visit them, he would watch her. He was only a baby when she made her first visit after she turned ten. When he turned five, she came back with a secret. It wasn't a secret but he liked to think of it as that because she said that he was the only one who would know and he was not to tell anyone of his present until the day after his birthday celebration. Tony surprised her by telling her "I am going to marry you someday." Mary blinked at him and asked "What" and Tony just shrugged then smiled and ran off to see what his grandpa had brought for him.

She was the best part of being left in Anne's care. She would tell him stories about her mother's native Spain and how she wished she could go there and then she would add that if she had any power, she would give him and his sister a better life. Tony wished he could really believe that. But even if Mary did get her claws on the Emperor, that would only make her father and the concubine more averse to the idea of her being Queen of England if something happened to his golden prince, Edward Tudor.

 _Doesn't matter. At least she would be back and I would see her again. And what is more, she can help me restore my sister's sanity by taking her away from that bastard brat and her whorish aunt._

He tried shutting his mouth every time he saw her or her aunt, but he couldn't help himself. Everything about them was insulting.

* * *

Bess helped her cousin translate one of the classical books so she could present it to the new Queen. "I heard that she is going to be pretty unlike the last one." Annie said, excited that Bess had told her, her translation was correct and no longer needed help with the last part.

"I heard that too but I won't believe it until I see it. Even if she is not, we will still like her. She is to be Queen."

"True. How do you think I should be dressed?"

Bess thought long and good. Discussing fashion with Mary Roper wasn't as fun as discussing it with her cousin. She knew what petticoat went with what farthingale, and when puffed sleeves worked versus thin ones. Mary, for all of her scholarship, was fashion ignorant.

An idea popped into Bess' head. Annie asked where she was going. Bess didn't respond. She returned with two new gowns. Annie gasped. "Are those?" Bess nodded. "They are beautiful! I didn't think they'd be made by now! It must've cost auntie Anne a fortune."

None at all. The baker she invited for her coronation party was a friend of the dressmaker so he brokered a bargain with him so she would only pay half the price of what he originally charged her. Do you like them?"

"Of course I like them! Bess, we are going to look like princesses!"

"That's the idea." Bess said, her eyes sparkling with anticipation for next week when everyone would see the two Boleyn cousins dressed in their finest.

* * *

While Bess and Annie talked of fashion and were ordering their maids to get ready for next week, going so far as to tell them how they wanted their hair done, Anne visited her youngest charge's room. Bess was not there for most of the day because she was busy choosing her gown for the upcoming reception Henry had planned for his next queen. Another Queen Anne. Anne thought with a wry expression. She hoped this one would fare better than her, and her foreign predecessor. If she gives Henry a Duke of York then we will all be saved.

She and Bess could live the rest of their lives peacefully and nobody would have to worry about Lady Mary.

She picked the baby and placed her on her lap. She had started teething. Her previous nurse said she couldn't breastfeed her anymore because her bite was getting too strong so Anne had to order her governess to find a new one. Luckily they did, but in the meantime it had been up to Anne to do it. She had never nurse-fed anyone except Bess and that had only been once. When Bella started sucking on her, Anne could barely believe how little she felt. She didn't want to stop but had to when Bess' governess came with a new nurse. The little time she and Bella had spent, had made them grow closer. After that, the child was barely inseparable from her or Bess.

Bess was right. If one of them wasn't with her, she would get afraid and start crying uncontrollably or grab on her favorite blanket and throw it against someone's face when she saw that someone wasn't either of her two favorite people. Anne hoped that these traits were only temporary because it was enough having to deal with three hyper active children like Bess, Annie and Mary Roper (although Mary –thank God- was calmer now that her attention was shifting towards boys and things girls her age focused on), she didn't want to imagine what it would be like with four! God help her.

"You are going to be at her reception too. Just as the Princess you are. You are going to let anyone see you." Anne wasn't going to exclude her just because Henry was ashamed of her. This was much her right as it was Bess and that milksop's son, Edward Tudor. And a part of Anne was also doing this so she could see the look on Henry's face when he saw that his youngest daughter was alive and well, being cared for by her mother's former enemy.

And it would also give her the perfect excuse to roam freely across the palace that she once co-owned with Henry, and search for Katherine's missing child, Bella's half-brother, the little John More.

* * *

John bit his lip as he endured another long sermon from his stepfather. God, how he hated to think of him as that but he must because if he didn't then he would punish him and force him to do menial tasks. Sometimes he preferred that over being in his presence but then when he'd see his happy smile at being condemned to the kitchens or to the servants' quarters, his stepfather would tell him his mother would be ashamed and that sent him down on his knees, begging him not to send him there.

Henry VIII used all kinds of scare tactics on the boy. It was fun scaring the bastard. He was a living reminder of everything that was wrong in his life. **_"Katherine's shame"_** he became known as, and every day he would gaze up at the stars and wish his father were back. Sometimes he would also pray and imagine his mother listening to him, telling him to be strong, that she was with him every step of the way but then he'd opened his eyes and remember that she was gone. That she wasn't coming back and that he was wasting his time wishing for the impossible.

Tonight was no different. John slipped into one of the few clean chemises he had and hopped into his bed. His stepfather had good rooms for him. Not as good as most of his courtiers had, but they were good when you compared them to the servant quarters or the lower nobility. And it was big enough for one person, so he had everything he needed. Still, it didn't feel like home.

Jeremiah, the Imperial Ambassador came to the King today to inform him that his master, or mistress as John liked to call her (since it was common knowledge that his real master was the Empress, not the Emperor as he claimed), had ordered him to inquire on his cousins' health and by cousins he meant John and his youngest sister, Princess Katherine Isabella.

Henry had given him very little detail but promised the two were fine. He ordered John to be brought to him, dressed as he always was, in his finest clothes so the Ambassador could see for himself that he was being well treated. But Henry Tudor didn't fool anyone. Anyone with two set of eyes and a common sense like the Imperial Ambassador knew that behind all that finery lay a miserable existence that was the King's doing.

John hoped his sad eyes were enough for the Imperial Ambassador to convince his mistress to send someone to help him escape as his father had helped his eldest half sister escape, or better yet, to let the news reach his father (if he was hiding in Spain) so he could come and pick him up. He had told his old man that he was strong enough to endure anything but the truth was that he wasn't. He cried the first time they beat him. It was only one time but it hurt and he still felt the flames on his back. He shuddered and always worried they would come back.

"Please dad just come back." He prayed. If god wasn't going to listen, maybe his dad would. His dad had escaped death once, he could do anything. Why wasn't he looking for him? "Please dad." He said in a smaller voice. "Come back."

* * *

Mary found herself in the Emperor's secret room. "What is this? Are all of these yours from your secret travels to the Sultan's harem?" She asked, feeling emboldened by his smile.

"Ha, ha, I wish but I would never step foot in Suleiman's harem even if His Holiness were to command me."

"That sentence alone contradicts everything." Mary pointed out.

"That –" He shook it off. He wasn't even going to try discussing semantics with her. She was schooled by some of the greatest humanists in Christendom, so if she implied she knew something, Charles was going to take her word for it. "Never mind. Let's talk about your private collection of works. I heard you loved reading classical works."

"You heard right. It wasn't something I once enjoyed. I still do. Is that from our grandfather?" She pointed to a long blade hanging next to a long Arabic-looking tunic.

"Why yes it is. He got it after he and our grandmother were given the keys of Granada by Boabdil. Boabdil himself was there acting as their escort and he lived with them on this same palace, dined with them on this room and toasted for their triumph."

"How charming. To think we are in the same place our grandparents once stood. It is almost surreal."

"Yes, it is." Charles said, entranced by her smile.

 **~o~**

Isabella was stopped by the Imperial Ambassador. He asked her where she was going. "You know who you brought and you still brought here. Do not lie to me Your Excellency, you have been drooling over her ever since she outgrew her childish clothes. You and Charles might lie to yourselves but I can see it."

Eustace had nothing to say that. He liked the Princess. Who can deny that? She was special, so much like her mother and in spite of all she suffered, he knew that deep down she was still the beautiful soul he had met when he saw her on Hatfield under her sister's service for the first time.

After a long silence, Eustace told the Empress "My High Lady, I wish you reconsider what you are doing. You are the mother of the future King, and the Emperor loves you. Whatever notions you have about your cousin, know that she will insult you. I swear to you." He said, adding that she was every bit of her mother's daughter.

Isabella snorted. So unlike her but she did because everything about that English rose set her aflame. "If you only knew Excellency, I have seen Charles with other women and I didn't mind because he always came back to me but this is different. And you know this." Before he said something else, she added "Goodbye Excellency, next time you see me, you will know I am right." Just you wait –her eyes said then turned her back and walked away.

* * *

Anne landed on Deal in Kent on the 27th of December of 1539. She had previously been in Calais where she met the Duke of Suffolk and various other members of Henry's court. She was overwhelmed by the level of warmth which she had received from her future subjects. She had been told by her brother to be careful, the English King wasn't a generous man -he said. But his people seemed welcoming enough. On Kent she had received a more grandiose welcome. A children's choir followed by actors dressed as mythological beings welcomed her as she and her ladies rode by in their respective carriages. Anne met the Duke's wife, Catherine Willoughby whom she was told by her brother's ambassador was the daughter of the late Queen of England's best lady in waiting and friend, Maria de Salinas.

It was an honor to be welcomed by all these people and it helped her forget how heartsick she felt about being so far away from home. This is my new home. She couldn't wait to meet the King. And his daughters. She swore that when she met them, she would do everything in her power to bring the family closer. From what she'd been told the former Queen, now Marques of Pembroke, was taking care of her predecessor's youngest daughter, the Princess Katherine. Anne would do better and make the king see she was his daughter and every bit deserving of his love.

She was anxious to talk with the Lady Anne Boleyn as well. The woman was an avid reader and she was a religious reformer. Though her brother didn't ascribe to Luther's teachings too much, he supported him and Anne always tried to find out more about his teachings, as well as other Reformers' teachings, but her mother never allowed her to read too much. _"Intelligent women"_ she told her _"do as they are told and don't ask too much questions."_ Well now she would. Because this was her new home and as Queen she would be entitled to ask as many questions as she could.


	3. Our Dreams are too Big for this World

_**"I stayed in one place for too long  
got to get on the run again  
I saw the one thing that I want  
help me get out of bed  
I'm throwing rocks at your window  
You are trying to put sheets together  
They say we are dreaming too big,  
I say this town's too small  
(Dream!)**_

 _ **Set me aside, turn back the clock  
give me some time  
I need to break out  
and make a new name  
Let's open our eyes  
to the brand new day  
It's a brand new day**_

 _ **I've taken hits like Apollo  
but I'm getting back up again  
And from the moment I saw her  
I was hell bent with heaven sent  
I'm throwing rocks at your window  
We are leaving this place together  
They say we are dreaming too high  
get used to looking up.  
(Dream!)**_

 _ **Set me aside, turn back the clock  
give me some time  
I need to break out  
and make a new name  
Let's open our eyes  
to the brand new day  
It's a brand new day!**_

 _ **I know it's a brand new day!  
Come on to the brand new day!  
(Dream!)**_

 _ **Set me aside, turn back the clock  
give me some time  
I need to break out  
and make a new name  
Let's open our eyes  
to the brand new day  
**_

 _ **It's a brand new day**_ _ **"  
~Brand New Day by**_

Anne was saddened by the King's attitude. She would have expected more decorum from His Majesty following her brother's ambassador's reports that she was ignorant when it came to notions of what he and his court called courtly love. There was no such thing in Cleves, furthermore how was she supposed to act when a stranger dressed in shabby clothes started fondling her breasts and tried to kiss her?

Was it stupid of her to act like a lady of her station would if she were in her position? Of course not! This was outrageous and only when he pulled down his hood and revealed his royal seal, did she understand who he was and tried to make up for it with idle chatter.

The damage though, was already done. And today when it was supposed to be the lady of Cleves' happiest day, she walked to the altar with a gloomy expression, barely looking at her groom.

Henry as his bride was dressed for the occasion. In fine rich clothing as she was, silver and gold with the regal of France as he called it (the ring he had torn from the infamous Archbishop of Canterbury, the Catholic saint, Thomas Beckett's dead finger when he desecrated his grave) on his middle finger, reluctantly saying the words that he would be with her until death do them part.

Certainly until death does her part –some people thought. Since she would be the first that went to her grave quite literally for displeasing the King. All the others who died were because of childbirth and trying to give the King what he most wanted: a son. One succeeded and the other had a child in the care of her worst enemy, surprisingly being cared for better than any of her relatives ever would have cared for her.

When the Mass ended and Thomas Cranmer pronounced them man and wife, everyone clapped (a nervous clap) and said "Amen" and joined the couple for the ongoing celebrations in Greenwich's great hall.

* * *

Everyone was inwardly praying that this marriage would last. People were whispering amongst themselves that the last time he married a foreigner it lasted. "How long though? First or second time?"

"How do we know when he is going to drop the axe? Literally drop the axe and say I don't want to be with this woman anymore or worse, create an international crisis that makes England more isolated?"

"King of England? More like King of Nothing." Was the general sentiment but no one dared to voice it except John More, and he was careful when he did because he knew the King and his master secretary had spies everywhere. Henry VIII saw himself as a god but he was just a puny little man, a child trapped in a man's body.

He felt a tug at his shirt and saw Anne standing next to him. The former Queen of England looked gorgeous. He could not deny her that. Black fur, red gown with a golden coronet like the ones he remembered from the days when she was Queen of England. She wasn't the one tugging his sleeve however, it was the baby she was holding. His one year old half-sister, Princess Katherine Isabella Tudor.

"She likes you. She only does that with me and Bess. Let him go Bella, it's not nice to do that to our family members." Bella didn't let go and it took a gentle nudge from Anne to release him. "She gets too excited when she is around family. That's a very nice suit little John. Who bought it for you?"

"Thanks, the King did. He's been treating me really well." He said, there was apprehension in his eyes as he looked from Henry to his sister.

"How well?" Anne asked, a legitimate question she considered given the boy's short and unsatisfying answer.

"Well enough." He said in a strong voice that reminded her of his father.

Anne didn't pry any further. She switched topics and talked about his sister and asked him if he wanted to visit her. "Your mother would have liked to see you two together. And she likes you which is more than I can say for most people. She has quite a grip too, last week she broke her wooden toy soldier. Isn't that right Bess?"

"Yes, she did." Bess said coming from behind her with her cousin hand in hand, Annie Boleyn.

"So what do you say?"

John could feel Henry VIII's eyes on him. He wanted to take the Lady Marques' offer but it would anger the king. "With all due respect my lady, I think you hardly –if ever- knew my mother and it seems like Her Highness has everything she needs in your care." The answer stunned Anne whose daughter opened her mouth to give him a strong response but before she could, he said "If you will excuse me" and left the scene.

 **~o~**

"That little twerp."

"Elizabeth."

"We come here in peace offering him paradise and this is how he turns you down?" She let go of Annie and crossed her arms against her chest, and shook her head "I hope that little idiot gets more punished." He deserved it. She felt sad for him when she first saw him, there in the high table, next to her father staring with sad eyes at their sister in her mother's eyes. She wanted to take his hand and tell him that she and his mother could make things better for him. But after the way he talked to them, Bess didn't think he deserved any pity.

"Come Bess, let's go back up. I am sure he had his reasons."

Bess didn't think he did. What could make him be so rude and turn down something so great? As far as she was concerned, if she heard anything more about the More boy complaining or suffering at the hands of her father, he deserved it because if he thought that wallowing in self-pity and having others cry for him and beg him was going to solve anything, he was wrong. If she learned one good thing from the bible and her tutors, it was that God helps those who help themselves, not needy cry-babies like John More who seemed to have inherited their sister's self-pity syndrome.

* * *

The Cleves Ambassador was nervous –and he had every right to be so. The marriage was not consummated by what his lady told him, and worse, the King didn't want to be near her. This was bad. Very bad. If word got back to his master by anyone other than him, he would be recalled or worse, replaced and he knew for a fact that the person who would replace him would not talk too kindly of him.

The way politics work, you had to take the fall for your master. His mentor had taught him that. If your master looks bad, all the realm look bad, so even if it stains your reputation, you must take the fall (for the greater good).

Carl hated this. If his lady would just have learned about these things. He felt like she had been set up. After all, she tried very hard when she arrived to Calais a month ago, to learn about English customs. She even asked Viscount Lisle to teach her how to play cards and various Earls about the different dances that were popular on her adoptive country. When she asked the Duke of Suffolk upon reaching the Bishop's Palace at Rochester if there was anything else she should be aware of, he said _"No, there is nothing. I think you are well versed in England enough."_ The Lady of Cleves was suspicious and relied those suspicions on her ladies who relay them back on him and he tried to get there in time to tell his lady about what the king might try to do but when he reached her it was already too late.

 _Sometimes I think these English people love fucking with everyone just for the sake of it._ He would not be surprised if it turned out that they were plotting to overthrow her and push one harlot in his path to make her his Queen. After all, with them, everything was possible.

* * *

Tomorrow would be the anniversary when her mother rejected that heretic Thomas More and went back to her father. _And the day that she also failed to include me in the line of succession ahead of my sisters as Princess._ Her mother paid though. She paid in full when God took her from this earth.

Sometimes Mary thought about where her mother resided now. Heaven or hell? Or neither? Was she in purgatory paying for her sins until she repented or maybe she was nowhere like the atheist of More believed, and she just ceased to exist altogether? Such things were hard for her to fathom and sometimes she didn't bother to think about them at all. Today wasn't one of those days. The Emperor showed her to his son's chambers and she was excited when she saw the young Philip. He was far too serious for a boy and despite Mary's best attempts to get him to show him all his drawings and translations to Spanish, it proved futile.

Charles excused his behavior as any parent would with the old 'he is just shy' but Mary knew better. There was too much of his mother in him. He wasn't shy. He like so many saw her as an impostor and was ready to fight her. For what? She wanted to ask him. She didn't come here to Spain to destroy or take over. She had a clear path in life and she believed that God had given her the necessary tools to make that happen. It would be foolish of her -and even lazy- if she didn't make use of them.

"I am sure he will." Mary said, deciding to go along with her cousin, and waved away at her second cousin who turned his back to her in an unsavory manner muttering something in his breath (in terrible Latin).

"I have something else to show you." He took her back to his study. "I made this last week."

"It is wonderful." She said as he placed it in her hands. It felt so light unlike the other ones but not fragile like the one he said he gave Isa (his nickname for his wife, and their petulant cousin Isabella of Portugal). "You made this in just one week?"

He shook his head, laughing at her remark. "Of course not. I did it in a day."

"What?"

"I did. You don't believe me? Ask Adrian."

"No, I do believe you, it is just that wow. This is amazing. I have never seen such a beautiful design. It looks so ... so like it was taken from another time and place and landed here, with you, on your Imperial hands."

"You have a way with words, cousin."

"Please call me Mary. If we are going to be on first name basis, it must be mutual don't you think?" He nodded smiling at her wit and boldness. Clearly Virgil was right when he wrote on his celebrated Aeneid, that fame favored the bold. "So," she continued putting her hand on the table, nearly leaning on him. "what motivated you to do a design this fast?"

He blinked.

"What?"

"Nothing ... It is just that ... I thought it was obvious by now. It is for you." He turned serious now and with their faces so close, he could not fight back the urge that had been eating him ever since he laid eyes on her for the first time in years since she was five. How little, puny she had been that it was almost impossible to believe that she had blossomed into the beautiful woman in front of him right now. Almost impossible.

"Me?" She asked. "But... but what about Isabella?" She took her hand off from the table and leaned back. "We can't." But before she could say something more he kissed her.

* * *

 **A/N: That is all for now. I tweaked the Anne of Cleves and Henry VIII's wedding. Originally they did marry on that date and wore lavish clothing and had the wedding and reception at the Queen's Closet and the grand hall at Greenwich but the color of their clothing was very different. Secondly today is the day that Catherine of Aragon died (7 January 1536) so I wanted to make a tribute to both dates. I hope you like it and please review!**


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